(4 minute read)

by Peter Lingard

(Australia)

‘Let’s go out somewhere,’ Nora said.

‘Where?’ I asked.

‘It’s autumn. Let’s go and see the trees that should be changing colour, or a large garden and see what petals are flourishing at this time of year.’

‘Surely they’ve all gone now?’

‘Not at all. This is the season for gladioli, iris, hydrangeas and a lot more.

‘Are any of these gardens near a bar,’ I asked hopefully.

That’s indoors, Iggy. I want some fresh air. I want to feel the weather.’

‘There’s rain forecast. Will that do?’

She stuck her tongue out.

We drove north and Nora was correct, the trees were all sorts of different shades of green, orange, red, yellow and brown. Flowers forgotten, we took obligatory photos and went for a walk in the woods. That’s where we saw a fox happily trotting along with a rabbit drooping from his mouth.

‘Oh no!’ Nora cried. ‘Stop that fox. Save that rabbit.’

‘The rabbit’s already dead and that fox will outpace me and disappear into the undergrowth, so it’s not worth doing anything.’

She thumped my arm ‘That’s a wimpy answer. Man up and save the little bunny now!’

‘It’s already dead, Nora. Let’s go to the pub and raise a glass to it.’

We reached a watering hole before the rain started. We gained a table, perused the menu and I went to the bar to order drinks and food. When I returned to the table, Nora made small flicking motions with her head. I raised my eyebrows.

‘Over there,; she whispered. ‘At the corner table. There’s a woman, probably in her fifties, with a fox on a leash. A fox!’

The tweeds and sensible shoes marked the woman a local. I foresaw trouble and pointed to the trees across the road.

Nora didn’t follow my gaze when I said, ‘Those trees across the road are colourful. Why don’t you take a snap?’

‘Don’t even bother,’ she said.

My best smile failed to disarm her. so I tried another tack. ‘The food should be here any minute.’

‘Food, shmood. She’s got a murderer for a pet.’

‘I’m sure it’s domesticated.’

‘Domesticate this! Would you mind if I had a pet crocodile?’

‘Nah. You’d soon turn it into a handbag and a couple of pairs of shoes.’

‘This is not a time to be facetious.’

‘Me?’

Thankfully, the food arrived.

‘Are you aware that that woman over there has a fox with her?’ Nora asked the waiter.

I seasoned my chips and ate a couple.

‘Of course. She brings it in two or three times a week, She’s quite well known around these parts. She even has a letter from the queen congratulating her.’

‘You have to be joking.’

The man shook his head. ‘No, it’s true. She’s shown me a copy.’

The waiter left and I started to eat.

Then the fox woman came to the table. ‘I heard what you said,’ she said to Nora.

‘What’s wrong with me having a fox for a pet? Are you jealous, or something?’

Nora thumped her cutlery down. ‘Jealous! Foxes are pests so, no, I’m not in the least jealous. I just think you should keep it at home and make sure it doesn’t go out and kill rabbits.’

‘What’s wrong with killing the odd rabbit? It’s a natural thing for them to do. Do you have a cat?’

Nora shook her head. ‘No. No cats or foxes at our house.’

‘But if you had one and it brought you a dead bird as a gift, would you be as horrified? It’d only be doing what is natural.’

I could see Nora was getting uncomfortable. ‘As I said, we don’t have any marauding pets. This is my husband and he….’

‘That’s life, dear. Get over it.’ The woman turned to go back to her table.

Nora looked daggers at me. ‘Thanks a lot. You could have given me some support.’

‘That might’ve been a little awkward,’

‘Awkward how?’

‘I’m eating rabbit pie.’

Copyright © 2024 – Peter Lingard. All rights reserved.

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